


10 Nights in Winterfell

by Marina_F



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-03-09 04:35:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18909682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marina_F/pseuds/Marina_F
Summary: All the sex we didn’t get to see in S8E04. Lots of JB banter and cuteness.





	1. Chapter 1

Brienne POV

Brienne woke up to the rhythmic sounds of the window shutters rattling against the morning wind. The cold air pushing into the room was a fresh reminder that beating the Night King had not stopped the impending change of the season. The smell of winter brought other things to mind too, sensory pleasures; Jaime taking her in his arms and kissing her; Jaime burying his face in her chest and then his body into hers.  _ Cruel, cruel dreams,  _ she thought.  _ Why do you torment me?  _ She was ready to brush it all off as a maid’s wishful dream. A nighttime reverie influenced perhaps by the proximity of the weirwood tree in the yard below. 

And yet, the warm body pressed against her chest told her this was no fantasy. He was still there, flesh and blood, one arm draped over her middle, the other tucked under his side in a restful sleeping position.

“Jaime,” she whispered at his sleepy head nestled against her shoulder.  _ You’re here,  _ she wanted to add. 

She liked this, the weight of his arm on her body, his breath rippling softly against her naked skin. So that’s what it was like to wake up in bed next to a man; one could get used to the feeling, she thought.

It took Brienne another two attempts. She didn’t quite have the heart to wake him. Eventually Jaime’s eyelids began to flutter, and a pair of green eyes stared up at her.

“It is past sunrise,” she said. The words came out more matter of fact than she intended.

“Say it again, please.”

“The sun’s out,” she repeated.

“Not that part.”

She raised her eyebrows and searched his face.

“My name, say it again.”

“Jaime,” she said barely above a whisper.

He smiled at the sound of it, and as she responded in kind, she felt herself being pulled down into a kiss. She met him eagerly, their first embrace from last night by the fireplace rushing back to her, awakening a muscle memory she didn’t know she had. Her boldness came as a surprise. She’d always been a shy girl, and years of being scorned for her physical appearance hadn’t done much to alleviate the insecurities around her womanhood. In this instant however, there was nothing shy or slow about her. With every kiss Brienne became more famished. She could tell Jaime was trying to slow down the pace, to take only her lower lip in his mouth, to steal brief kisses, and nuzzle at her neck. But the morning light was casting longer shadows with each breath she took, and Brienne knew there was no time. If she wanted him again, they’d have to be quick.

“It is past sunrise,” she breathed out, more insistent.

“You keep saying that,” he said, “Like it matters.” He shoved the furs to the side, exposing their upper bodies to the cold morning air. 

A shiver traveled across Brienne’s shoulders and she whimpered at the sensation of her nipples hardening so quickly. His fingers traced the faded scar on her left collarbone, the proof of their fight in the bear pit now almost unnoticeable. As if he were roping her in, she bent down, folding to his touch. Soon her hands were on his chest and her mouth back on his. Jaime opened to meet her and she accepted the invitation; wet, warm, and full of life.  _ Can this be me? A woman who knows how to please and who yearns for more at the day’s first light?  _ Brienne broke away.

“They’ll be expecting us at the morning meal,” she protested.

Jaime propped himself up on his good elbow and looked at her, eyes wide and pleading. “We fought the dead and lived. I doubt any soul would begrudge us the chance to act on that good fortune.”

He kept her gaze, then insisted, “There’s time.”

“No.” 

Without breaking eye contact she pushed him back down against the mattress. Even if he’d tried, he couldn’t have matched the force of her movement. One leg on each side of him, she leaned forward and sat down against his hard cock. Now it was his turn to be impatient, to twitch and thrust, and look her up and down as if she were all he’s ever craved.

“You’re a strong woman,” he said. And when Brienne looked at his eyes, dark and full of warmth, she knew it wasn’t mockery, he was in awe. She felt a rush of tenderness at the wonder her size had just evoked in Jaime. She wasn’t a big lumbering beast, she was the warrior queen Nymeria, and he was her conquest. 

“There’s a day’s worth of work waiting, and another war to be fought,” she said.

She raised herself slightly and used the tip of his cock to spread her moisture. Underneath her, Jaime was writhing like a trapped animal. 

“I don’t think I’m in a state to refuse you, my lady.”

Steading herself with one arm while using the other for guidance, she lowered herself onto him slowly until he disappeared inside of her. The thrusting motions of her hips were timid at first. _ I can do this,  _ she thought and focused on the feeling of fullness that stretched her from within. Gradually, one moan at a time, she picked up the pace. He was more experienced than her and could have taken the lead, but he let her have this round.  _ He’s giving himself to me _ , she realized _. _ Jaime’s head was turned slightly downward, a tight-lipped smile on his face, as if to say, “Go ahead, ravish me.”

Seated firmly in the saddle of his groin she rode them into a rocking flow of want. Faster and faster, she rubbed down against him in response to the building pressure in her loins. The sudden tightening of her body left her stunned, and Jaime had to wrap his arm around her waist and thrust from below to find his release.

After he let go, she stayed atop him; watched their chests rise and fall till her breathing evened out. They hadn’t exchanged any words when they finished last night. Jaime had motioned towards the bed, and they’d promptly climbed under the furs and fallen asleep. 

As she sat there straddling him, it dawned on her she should say something, but all that escaped her lips was a barely audible “Hi.” She admonished herself for not being more articulate. Septa Roelle had always liked to remind her she was a slow child, now was not the time to prove her right.  _ Think, Brienne, think. _

“Looks like the ramparts have fallen,” Jaime said. 

He gently brushed his thumb over the protruding edge of her right hip bone. On his face was that self-satisfying expression she once thought was the most arrogant face in all of Westeros. She had since grown to appreciate it as something else entirely. There was smugness in that expression, yes, but that smirk was also a defense mechanism, Brienne knew. A weapon of charm Jaime deployed when he felt most vulnerable. 

And Jaime was right, the ramparts had fallen. She was exposed, and so was he. 

Naked and consumed, Jaime still very much tucked inside her wetness, the reality of the barrier they’d crossed last night sank in. They had shared a bed as lovers when their union hadn’t been sanctioned by law or the Seven. It felt right and it felt wrong. 

“We have to head down to the great hall. You should go first.” She looked over to where his clothes were sprawled over the floor. ”Best to arrive separately. So as to not raise any suspicions.” 

“Are you throwing me out of your bed?”

“No. But the sun’s up, and it would not be prudent to stay.” She moved off him and reached for the towel and wash basin on the nightstand.

“Or I could go first, if you prefer.” she said.  _ This is new to me, but I’m not Cersei. I am not ashamed of you.  _

In a vain attempt at modesty, she kept her back to him while she brought the washcloth to her face and then her lower body to clean away the stickiness between her legs. 

She felt the bed shift as Jaime got up to get dressed. Brienne had not meant for her words to come across so forbidding. He’d been thrown out of Cersei’s bedroom all his life, there was no need to repeat the experience. She liked to think she was being honorable in her practical approach to the situation, but the emotional pull of their circumstances was starting to take its toll and Brienne no longer knew which voice to heed.  _ My heart or my head? _

Outside, the wind had picked up again, and the shutters were rattling once more. A drift of air slipped through broken louvers and landed coldly against her chest. At the sound of boots thudding against the wooden floor, Brienne turned her head. Jaime was standing in front of her, fully clothed.  

“I’ll see myself out then.” 

“Wait.” She grabbed the robe from the chair and threw it over her shoulders. He was already at the door when she reached him.

“Save me a seat at the table. Will you?” 

Jaime nodded. It was a slow dip of the chin, the kind that signaled defeat more than agreement. Brienne placed her hand on his right arm, a light touch meant to buy time until she could will more words from her lips. But before she could say goodbye, he had turned away and walked out the door.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Jaime POV

Jaime opened the doors to the great hall. Inside, a foul acidic odor hung in the air. He covered his mouth and followed the smell to the left, where a dozen wildlings lied passed out in pools of vomit and spilled vine; the human leftovers of last night’s feast. It was a disgusting sight, and yet Jaime envied them their blissful drunken stupor. _There’s no pain where there’s no feeling,_ he thought. Carefully, he stepped past the snoring piles of furs. He tried to let the hurt wash over him, to not focus on how much Brienne had sounded like his twin when she’d asked him to leave.

Jaime looked up and took in the rest of the room: row after row of near empty tables stared back at him. _Damn it, Brienne! I told you there was time!_ He had seen enough wars to know that castles lie dormant the morning after great victories. And Brienne would have known, _should_ have known, too.

The vast emptiness of the hall brought to mind the picture of a bedroom; Brienne straddling him slowly, gently as if they had all the time in the world. _I must not go there!_ He chased the image from his thoughts with a brusque shake of the head.

“Come join us,” a voice came from the far end of the room, ‘if you sit close enough to the fire, the sweetness of the cherry firewood almost masks the stench.”

The man was hidden by the tall backrest of the chair, but Jaime did not need to see a face to recognize the sharp tongue of his brother.

“Tyrion?” He asked.

“Sit.” Tyrion motioned to the vacant chair to his left. “I was just asking Podrick here why he chased those two lovely young women out of his bed at such an early hour.”

Pod breathed an exasperated sigh; he looked like he’d about had enough of Tyrion. “I train with the sword twice a day. At first light, and again after the the day’s work has been finished. Lady Brienne’s orders,” Pod said. “And she has not missed a training session since taking it upon herself to teach me how to fight. Until today...”

“Perhaps my dear brother has some insights he’d like to share as to why this morning might be different. Ser Jaime?”

Jaime picked up the pitcher and poured himself a glass. “I don’t suppose they’ve brought out fresh bread and eggs yet?” He asked.

“You’re avoiding the question entirely. Interesting...” Tyrion said as he toyed with the stem of his cup. ”I never did get to hear the answer to my question at last night’s game.” He took a slow, deliberate sip. “Is Lady Brienne still a maid?”

Pod’s eyes went wide.

Jaime felt anger crackle in his veins. Oh how he would have liked to punch Tyrion in the face. Instead, he leaned down; in his voice, a hint of menace: “I think you’ve spent too much time in the sun with that dragon queen of yours. It’s a shame. Seems you’ve lost your touch.”

Tyrion stared back into his eyes as if trying to fish out the lie in what was just said. Jaime’s hurt and anger had lent an unexpectant insistence to his words, sharpening his growl.

With a loud bang the doors to the hall flung open, and in walked Tormund -- with Brienne.

Jaime’s heart skipped a beat. He looked to his right at Tyrion and Pod, both rooted in place, their faces white like they’d just seen a ghost.

Tormund barged straight towards the mountain of sleeping wildlings. “Get up you lazy sacks of shits! Who taught you to sleep in comfortable halls like little pampered princes?”

Brienne took the long way around, past the other tables to avoid Tormund and his grumbling savages. “Ser Jaime, Tyrion, Pod,” she nodded at each one of them before taking her seat next to Pod, utterly unaware of how the scene had looked from where they were sitting.

Jaime chanced a look at his brother. Tyrion’s eyes were still wide with disbelief. The little man looked at him, then Tormund, then Brienne, and then back at Jaime as if the answer to this riddle of a love triangle lay somewhere in the air.

As Tyrion’s face continued to carry an expression midway between shock and confusion, Jaime worried the dwarf might actually blurt out an apology. With a slow shake of the head, he signaled Tyrion to stay quiet.

Across the room, Tormund was yelling loudly for his men to get up. Jaime could hear the sound of boots kicking heavy clothing, followed by loud moaning. Gradually, the wildlings  cleared out of the hall.

Meanwhile, at their table, Brienne was calmly filling a cup for herself, emptying what was left of the wine. She hadn’t yet looked at Jaime, not _really_ looked at him. And he desperately needed to see her face, to see if he could catch even just a glimmer of the shame that would light Cersei’s eyes  after they’d fucked. _Would Brienne too, regret him?_

“M’lady?” Podrick asked. The young squire shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Like a hawk Jaime watched his face for any signs of dread. _He’s not going to ask where she was this morning, is he? No squire would be that stupid._

“What is it Pod?” Brienne asked.

At the sound of her voice, Jaime’s eyes left Podrick and landed on Brienne. The top of her leather jerkin was lose, whether by accident or on purpose he wasn't sure, (though he leaned towards the former). It had the fortunate side effect of highlighting her long neck, and if he looked hard enough, he could see the red mark he had placed there last night.

“M’lady… Ser... I know we usually spar with swords...” Podrick hesitated.

“Yes...” Brienne’s tone was curiously patient.

“But... This morning, in the yard, when you weren’t --.”

Jaime held his breath and looked at Tyrion. His brother had been uncharacteristically quiet since Brienne had joined their table. The half man was studying her face attentively, waiting for a big reveal.

“Well, one of the Unsullied officers offered to show me how to yield a spear. And I thought that perhaps I should widen my skill set?”

A slight  “Oh?” escaped Brienne’s lips, but she caught herself quickly. “Yes, Pod, we could all stand to learn a few lessons from the Unsullied. The spear is one of the oldest, plainest, and most honorable weapons.”

“My throwing technique leaves much to be desired,” Pod laughed and Brienne responded with a smile, “I too, could use the practice and it would be refreshing to work on something different,” she said.

“That settles it then,” grinned Pod, and Jaime didn’t know who was more relieved, the squire or him.

“They’re already in the yard; they’ve been at it since before dawn,” Pod said.

“If that’s the case, then we should stop by the kitchens for a proper morning meal first, and join them as soon as possible,” said Brienne.

“Ser Jaime?”

He doesn’t remember what she said beyond his name, because she was finally looking at him - _really_ looking at him -  and it wasn’t there. Not even the faintest shimmer of shame. All he saw were deep pools of blue and he wanted to cry tears of joy. He wanted to carry her upstairs to their bed and fuck her senseless until they both collapsed from exhaustion.  

A tap on the shoulder pulled Jaime out of his daze. “We’ll see you at the yard then,” Pod said. Brienne gave Jaime a little nod and followed Pod out of the great hall. Jaime could feel Tyrion’s eyes on him. He’d just revealed his hand; he was never going to hear the end of this.

***

Outside, Jaime watched from the stands as Brienne practiced with staff and spear. She moved well. The light weapon suited her, showcased her agility. Grey Worm had gotten a few good strikes in; Brienne tended to aim her thrusts too high, but she was a quick learner and her opponent’s footwork was starting to get sloppy. Holding the staff firmly in both hands, she shot her right arm out while keeping the left in, pulled the staff down towards her in a circular motion, and then back up and away from her and straight into Grey Worm’s side.

“Ouch! That was a strong strike!” Grey Worm exclaimed as he went tumbling to the ground.

“Well done, Ser Brienne!”

Jaime turned his head to search for the source of the voice and found Sansa, two rows back, clapping with the wild enthusiasm of a child.

The sight brought a smile to Brienne’s face.

Sansa approached the foot of the yard. “Might I have a word?”

Brienne dropped her staff and walked towards the stands, “Lady Sansa, always.”

Jaime watched Brienne and Sansa head towards the Godswood. He stayed behind to watch Pod wrestle with the spear, expecting Brienne to come back anytime, but she and Sansa remained out of sight for the rest of the day.

***

At sundown he caught her on her way out of the armory. “Brienne,” he grabbed hold of her arm and led her into the corridor which connected the armory to the kitchens and guest quarters in the eastern part of the castle.

“Jaime.” She seemed surprised to see him.

“I’ve looked all over for you. Where were you?”

“With her ladyship,” she said.

“You seem troubled.”

Brienne took a breath and Jaime prepared himself for bad news.

“At first light, Jon and Daenerys are taking the fleet and two battalions to Dragonstone. Sansa’s asked me take command of the Northern force that is to remain at Winterfell.”

 _That’s it?_ He was happy for her. “As she should,” he said. “You’re the most qualified person for the job.”

“I haven’t accepted yet.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

She paused, looked down at her feet. “This morning, I shouldn’t have asked you to leave my room. I thought it was the right thing to do, but I was wrong. If people want to spread stories, let them. I’ve decided I don’t care what others have to say about us.”

“Brienne...” He went to cup her chin, bring her eyes back into his, but realized too late he’d  moved the wrong arm. The golden hand was already cumbersome on a regular day and now it was just plain useless. Brienne’s face was out of reach.

“I don’t easily trust others. _Be weary of strangers, keep to yourself,_ my father said went I left to join Renly’s army. It was good advice, it’s kept me alive. But I’m not alone anymore.”

She was laying herself bare, risking it all, and for _him_. Jaime reached for Brienne again, this time with his proper hand. _All is forgiven,_ he wanted to say as she looked at him with those big eyes that weren’t Cersei’s, so full of warmth and affection.

“I let my fears get the better of me and I regret behaving towards you as I did. If you’ll still have me, I promise to never again ask you to leave my bed.”

“Oh Brienne.” He pulled her closer until she was flush against his chest. “I’m taking you back to my room right this instant and we are not leaving that bed, not for Pod, not for Sansa, not for anyone. Do you hear me?”

Brienne noded, then her lips landed on his, and he couldn’t get her up the stairs and into his bed fast enough.

That night, although she had been the one asking for forgiveness, it is he who sought comfort in the shelter of her arms. Their lovemaking was slow, full of tenderness.

Until last night, no woman had ever welcomed him into her body without some expectation of compensation. _A Lannister always pays his debts,_ Cersei would whisper, his barely soft cock still inside her cunt. And he knew then, there’d be another lie to tell, a truth to hide, a man to kill. Brienne however, gave freely, and Jaime found himself pleading for more. More of the sweet caresses of her hands along his back, more of her lips to roll between his teeth.

“Brienne” he breathed as he climbed over her large frame to settle between her thighs.

“Here,” she said and enveloped him with her legs.

Each trust was slower than the next. Jaime needed to feel every inch of the heat radiating from her body, to bury his nose in the crook of her neck while Brienne ran her fingers through his hair and placed feather soft kisses on his forehead. She offered parity, the reassurance that they belonged to each other at no cost but their mutual devotion.

They moved like this, flesh to flesh, Jaime’s hand helping out when her pleasure called, until he couldn’t hold it any longer. Even then, she held him tight as he spilled inside her. She wrapped her arms around him. “It’s alright,” she whispered, and Jaime surrendered to her protection.


	3. Chapter 3

Brienne POV

 

“I keep a fire going at all times, but it’s a waste of good firewood, really,” Sansa said. “The hot water running through the walls keeps the place more than warm. Did you know Winterfell was built over natural hot springs?” she asked as she turned to Brienne.

“I noticed the open pools in the courtyards, but I had not realized the extent of the heating system.”

Sansa pressed a hand flat against the wall and flinched back at the sensation. “Pipes run through the entire castle. These used to be my parents’ chambers. When I close my eyes, I can still picture my mother drawing us a bath, Arya racing me up the stairs to be the first to soak; the water was always hot and steaming.” Even as she lowered her head in bittersweet memory, the thoughts brought a smile to Sansa’s face. The girl had been forced to grow up too soon, seen the horrors of political warfare first hand, but Brienne refused to pity her because that was not what Sansa wanted or needed. She was now a leader in her own right, and the road travelled mattered less than the one ahead.

“Lady Catelyn was a strong and kind woman. She’d be proud of you, Sansa.” 

“I like to think she would,” Sansa mused. “You’re probably wondering why I’ve asked for you… Come,” she said and gestured for Brienne to sit down next to her on the bed.

She placed her hands slowly over Brienne’s. “You’ve been good to me. Loyal, always,” she paused, “When men who thought themselves better abandoned their loyalties, you never faltered. You kept your oath to my mother; you found me, kept me safe, returned me to my home.”

Compliments made Brienne uncomfortable. Doing the right thing was the reward; she was happy to see Sansa alive and thriving. “You don’t have to thank me,” she said. “In truth, it is your mother who saved me by taking me into her service. If she hadn’t urged me out of Renly’s tent that night Stannis’ shadow came…”

“And now you command the northern forces.” Sansa gazed up at Brienne, eyes warm like summer skies. “You should stay here, in the great keep, where the lords of House Stark and their closest friends reside.”

It was too much kindness. “My chambers in the guest house are more than adequate. And I like being close to the training yard.” Brienne also liked that Jaime’s room was down the hall from hers, but she didn’t share that with Sansa.

“I insist. I want you to feel at home. The yard is right around the corner if you take the western staircase.” 

“Thank you.” Brienne bowed her head.

“I’ll have your things moved to your new chambers.”

Brienne quickly rose to her feet and the girl caught the surprise in her expression.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Sansa’s lips curved upward in a knowing smile. A weird sense of dread flooded Brienne’s face. She thought she and Jaime had been discreet, but perhaps not enough. 

“People know?” 

“Only myself and the servant girl who found your bed untouched when she came to drop off breakfast this morning.”

“It’s new… it’s not conventional…”

“You don’t need to justify your choice. Not to me of all people; two marriages, one annulment, and one dead husband later — I can’t say the world cares much for women who obey rules and conventions.”

“He’s a good man.”

“For your sake, I hope you’re right.” Sansa’s tone was soft. Brienne saw that she meant it, a flicker of light brightened the vivid blue in her eyes. Brienne had been the one who returned Sansa home, but now Sansa watched over her as much as Brienne watched over the girl. Jaime would be welcome to stay in the North for as long as the women were sworn to each other. 

“Winterfell is your home now. Explore what’s inside the castle walls and beyond, take a stroll through the godswood, visit the glass gardens, take a soak in the hot springs. Anything. Make it yours,” Sansa said, and there was joy and hope in her voice. 

***

That night, Brienne and Jaime walked through the godswood with towels and a change of warm clothes under their arms. Hints of snow blown down from the mountains lingered in the air like a magic spell. It reminded Brienne of Tarth, and the dewy smell of rain on a spring morning. Ahead, as far as their eyes could see, a white blanket covered the sleeping grounds of the old gods.

“Who did you say suggested this?” Jaime asked. 

“Sansa. After she showed me my new chambers in the great keep.”

He stopped and turned to look at Brienne. “Does she know about us?”

“Yes.” 

“What did she say?” 

“Nothing.”

“Then how do you  _ know  _ she knows?” He asked.

“She knows.” Brienne said as if there was nothing to the question. “The spot should be right past those evergreens,” she pointed to a small row of pine trees up ahead. 

“I’m to be her guest indefinitely?”

“I suppose, yes.”

“Does that mean I get to move my things too?”

“Your things?”

“Into the great keep, with yours,” he said.

The snow crunched one last time under the soles of her boots before she stopped dead in her tracks. She was going to say something, but she couldn’t remember what. The green spruce of the godswood had given way to a different kind of winter wonderland. Warm mist filled the air above the hot springs and red leaves peeked through the snow-powdered trees that lined the pool. It was a lovers’ hideout, no doubt about it. 

“Ooh she knows,” Jaime said breathlessly as he took in the picturesque scenery. 

“It’s beautiful,” Brienne declared. She cleared the snow off the half-wall that wrapped around the steaming hot springs to put down her towel and change of clothes. The red and brown-colored bricks of the wall blended naturally into the landscape, like they too had risen from the earth along with the warm vapors they contained. Sansa sending them here was the girl’s way of giving them her blessing. Unconventional was alright. Now it was up to Brienne and Jaime to make Winterfell theirs, and she couldn’t think of a better location to begin exploring their new home.

“I’ll need a hand with these...” he said pointing to the laces on his shirt, “and those...” Brienne’s eyes followed Jaime’s down to his waist and then a little lower to the lace-up fly of his pants. She felt a smirk rise on her face. Proud Jaime feigning helplessness so that she’d do things for him was her new weakness. 

“You’re really playing that cripple card,” she said. 

“You cannot fathom the struggle.” He hooked his stump around her back and drew her close. She stumbled forward. 

“Even with two hands, I still need room to work,” she said.

“Never known you to refuse a challenge.”

“Never,” she whispered as she brought her lips to his mouth for a quick kiss. When she pulled away, Jaime leaned in for a second one.

Brienne fumbled to loosen the lacing around his chest then pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it next to the rest of their items on the wall. Jaime liked reminding her that he was no longer the fighter he used to be, but as she watched him now, naked from the waist up, muscles contracting under the palms of her hands, she wanted to take him up on that challenge.  _ Soon enough,  _ she thought as her hands, a mind of their own, stayed on the hard muscles of his chest.

“Can you handle the rest yourself?” she asked after she’d undone the top lace of his pants. 

“I think I’ve got it covered.” He turned his back to her, “Don’t look, or close your eyes if you have to...”

“I’ve seen you naked many times before,” she protested, but humored him anyway. Brienne disrobed swiftly, eager to trade the nighttime chill for a warm soak. 

Jaime was the first in the water. “Hop in,” he said, “A balm for the body and spirit.”

And he was right, it felt absolutely blissful. Brienne sank into the water until her shoulders were submerged, and let out a long sigh. She stayed like that for a few minutes, then floated on her back, eyes closed, as the warm water soothed her skin and aching muscles. 

“Here.” She felt Jaime’s hand pull her towards the other end of the pool. “Let me help with that tightness in your shoulders,” he said, as they sat down on the carved stone bench in the water. Jaime seated himself behind her, and his left hand began to knead the tense muscles across her neck and shoulders. Instinctively, Brienne relaxed under his touch. She brought his maimed arm to her stomach, stretched out her neck as his fingers worked their magic. 

She melted into him. She’d never had anyone do that before. A quiet moan escaped her lips and she was reminded of the sounds they'd made in bed last night when  _ he _ was the one falling apart in her arms. She’d wrapped herself around him, nurtured his thrusts with a gentle sway of her hips. Another moment like that, that’s what she wanted -- now and tomorrow and the next day.

Jaime’s thumb was pressed against her spine, slowly, he rubbed it down along the length of her back, and Brienne eased into the motion. Soon, his lips were on the nape of her neck; the scrape of his beard sparked goosebumps across her skin. She could feel the head of his cock on her ass, light taps at first, then, as if she could have missed it, he tightened his grip on her to make the strength of his arousal known.

“Gods, just how did that conversation between you and Sansa go?” he whispered behind her ear, “Ser Brienne, before you leave, may I suggest you take your lover to this secret fuck hideout in the back of the godswood?”

Brienne let out a quiet laugh, “She wasn’t quite as crude,” she said, and leaned her head back against the crook of his shoulder. 

“Brienne?” he asked between kisses to her neck and twitches of his cock against her back.

“Jaime.”

“So… about my things?”  

“It’s only been two nights.”

“How many nights does it take? Look at me,” he said, and pulled her sideways onto his lap. His gaze was steady. “It will work,” he swore.

“Yes?” 

“You commanding the northern forces, me tending to the place, waiting for you to return so I can take care of you each night… and then again in the morning.”

A soft chuckle escaped her lips because _surely_ Jaime was jesting. A beat passed, then another. He did not laugh. 

“Jaime?” 

He cupped her chin and looked at her with only tenderness. Brienne’s breath hitched in her throat. She wanted to cry, and she wanted to scream. 

“I rode north to fight the dead thinking the best outcome would be a death at your side. Against all odds, we lived.”

He wasn’t jesting.

“Brienne, say yes.” 

So she did. “Yes,” she whispered, uncertain what she was agreeing to. To sharing a bed, she supposed, and to living life together, she hoped. She pressed her lips to his to seal the promise, no one to witness safe the weirwood tree and the old gods of the forest. 

Brienne couldn’t remember who moved first, him or her, but she found herself straddling a standing Jaime while hot waves rippled around them. Their bodies danced in the water as they kissed and clung to each other. With Jaime backed against the wall, Brienne used his shoulders for leverage and carefully lowered herself onto him. The sensation was odd at first, the buoyancy of the water meant she had to adjust the force of her motions, hold on tighter and push down harder. She kept him sheathed inside until she adjusted to the feeling, then she moved with him, together, against the water until they were spent.

The hot steam hovered over the surface of the water as they lingered in each other’s arms, Brienne’s head resting on Jaime’s shoulder. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and asked, “How many more hidden places do you suppose Sansa could recommend?” 


	4. Chapter 4

Jaime POV

Jaime arrived at the end of the hallway, arms loaded with boxes and bags, grateful to find Brienne had left the chamber door ajar. “Coming in,” he called as he opened the door the rest of the way with his elbow. 

Inside, it appeared Brienne had not heard him. She was clearing out the drawers of a large oak dresser, hastily stuffing piles of clothes into an open chest next to the bed. There was an odd, domestic quality in the way she rummaged about the room. Jaime paused to take in the scene. Her actions were hurried, like a mother picking up after a destructive child, yet also efficient, as one would expect from an accomplished swordswoman. Standing by the door, he felt his lips curl into a smile at the mental image of Brienne chasing a little blue-eyed mischief-maker. _One day perhaps,_ Jaime thought, and his chest grew tighter, warmer.

He walked a few feet past the threshold, then stopped to examine the place; it was a cozy little chamber. Wide windows looked out to the courtyard and filled the space with bright, natural light. There were two fireplaces, one on each short end. A small table and chairs stood in the left corner, and the bed and other pieces of furniture took up the rest of the room. More spacious than he’d expected, the room would easily accommodate the two of them.  

“That should suffice!” Brienne exclaimed, hands on her waist, looking satisfyingly at the empty drawers as if she’d just wrangled a pack of wild pups.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Jaime said, a chuckle in his voice.

“Jaime!” she cried out, startled. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Ooh… hours, I gather.” He feigned a tumble. “My bad arm’s about to fall to pieces.”

“Don’t be overdramatic.” Brienne rolled her eyes and walked over to where Jaime stood. “Here, let me get this,” she said, and took a box off his arms. She walked back to the dresser and began unpacking, not quite as hurried as her earlier efforts, but just as efficient.

“How many trips do you think it’ll take to bring over the rest of your belongings?” she asked.

“One.” Jaime said, and with a loud thump, dropped the remaining bags and boxes onto the bed. “I should have made it two though, my left shoulder feels sore already.” 

“You mean this is all of it?” Brienne eyed the items on the bed, surprised.

“I left King’s Landing in the middle of the day with nothing more than the clothes on my back and what little I could fit in two saddlebags. Yes, this is it.” Jaime rolled his shoulders to loosen the stiffness in his back.

“I suppose it was a rather hasty departure,” she said, picking up another shirt from the box to add to the small pile in the drawer. 

Jaime turned away. He found himself thinking back to the day of his departure. He’d never traveled this light before, so unlike a Lannister. No men following, no carriage with trunks of supplies. A fast horse and his better sense had carried him away from the capital, away from Cersei, and into the Long Night. Then came this, a new beginning.

It was quiet in the room, no more sounds of drawers opening and closing. Jaime approached the large windows overlooking the courtyard. Amidst the comings and goings of Winterfell, farm hands pushed carts of food through the streets and children played hide and seek in the stables. Even though she wasn't within sight, he felt Brienne’s eyes on him.

“We can arrange for more clothes, a new pair of boots,” offered a quiet voice from behind.

“Look at the view!” Jaime exclaimed; eyes focused on the bustle in the courtyard. 

“Are you listening?” This time, Brienne was more insistent.

“I’ve never needed for anything.” Jaime turned around to face her, “I may have fallen out of favor with quite a many high lords in Westeros... but I’m here, in good company. What more should I wish for?

“I merely meant that if we are to stay here, you should feel at home.”

“Are you offering to turn me into a kept man?” 

Brienne sighed, then moved behind the dresser, brushing off Jaime entirely.

“Ohhh you are,” Jaime said, amused, and sauntered over to the bed.

He noticed Brienne’s eyes track him intriguingly from across the room. The incredulous look on her face as he plopped down onto the quilted covers was worth the hit to his sore shoulder.

“Admit it, the idea appeals to you,” he said, patting the spot next to him on the bed. “You, ensuring my protection and welfare; me laying low, tending to the place.”

“You’re more than capable of protecting yourself,” Brienne retorted as she picked up the last box of Jaime’s things, and placed it atop the oak dresser. She wasn’t taking the bait, thought Jaime, but he wasn’t going to let her off the hook so easily.

“Have you picked your side yet?” he asked.

“My side?”

“Of the bed. You have to pick a side.” 

Comfortably seated in the middle of the bed, legs stretched out, Jaime gestured again for Brienne to join him. Tapping first to his right, then left, he looked at her intently, “So, which one is it going to be?” 

“Does it matter? Can’t I just pick whichever side is most convenient on a given night?” 

“Absolutely unacceptable! You must choose a side.”

“Or else?”

“It’s important to have established routines. Plus, the side you pick says something about you as a person.”

“Enlighten me, please.”

Jaime smiled, satisfied to have brought Brienne around. “You see, the left side opens to the windows. Every morning when you wake up, you’ll get to see the sky, feel the sunlight on your skin. The right side is closest to the door, practical for a quick exit, but it’s a vulnerable position; you’re in line of sight if someone comes in.”

“I’ll take the right side.”

“Not a morning person, huh?”

“I’ll leave the nature marvels to you. If someone breaks in, it’s my sword they'll meet first.”

“As you wish.” Jaime scooted to the newly-designated-as-his left side of the bed and stretched in an attempt to knead the tender spot behind his shoulder blade. _Maybe I shouldn’t have thrown myself quite so enthusiastically onto the bed,_ he thought. His arm couldn’t reach far enough, and quickly, Jaime found himself cursing the absence of his sword hand.

Across the room, Brienne had finished putting the last of their clothes in the dresser. “You really pulled something?” she asked, noticing the change in his demeanor.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch me suffer in agony or are you going to offer me a hand?”

“Never been one for understatements, have you?” Brienne shut the drawer, then sat down next to Jaime. “Turn around,” she said, “and a please and thank you are in order, too”. 

Jaime moved his torso to face the window, allowing Brienne to position herself behind him. “Thank you,” he muttered. Brienne’s hands promptly found his back and Jaime eased into her touch.

“This thing is useless, I don’t know why I continue to wear it,” said Jaime as he loosened the golden hand covering his stump. 

Unprompted, Brienne reached around from behind, saving him from having to clumsily shake off the weighty thing. “Let’s put it away for now,” she said, and placed the hand down on the nightstand. 

 _This woman knows me too well_ , thought Jaime.

Brienne wrapped her left arm around Jaime’s waist and pulled him closer. It was peculiar, the way he fit so perfectly into her embrace, but comforting, soothing.

“You know, I was joking earlier. About you taking care of me,” he said.

“I know.” Brienne moved a hand over his shoulders, assessing where to begin her work. A few strokes on each side, and she found the spot. Pressing into his flesh with her thumb, she carefully kneaded into submission the stiffness that had caused him to shudder from pain just a moment ago.

Jaime closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Brienne was quite adept, knew which areas to target and how much force to apply. A pleasant, if unexpected, reveal.

“Where did you learn how to do this?”

“I was taught.”

“By whom?”

“Podrick.”

“Pod? You let him touch you like this?”

“He was, _is_ my squire. He acts as an attendant, takes my armor off, tends to my injuries.”

“And where did he learn to… never mind. He squired for my brother; I can surmise where he picked up such skills…” 

“Are you jealous?” 

“Of Podrick? No!”

“You sound quite jealous.”

“I’m not.” 

In a single maneuver, Jaime grabbed hold of Brienne’s hand, turned around, and pressed his lips to hers, surprising even himself with the fluidity of the motion. She tasted of honey and something uniquely Brienne, fresh with just a hint of sea salt. 

“What are you doing?” Brienne gasped, breaking free from the kiss.

“Kissing you.”

“Your shoulder feels better?”

“Much improved,” said Jaime, as he dove back for another taste of her lips, so soft and warm.

Almost sitting in Brienne’s lap, their chests flush, he could feel the weight of her breasts against his body.

“Still, best to not take any chances,” whispered Brienne as she carefully slipped out from under him. “Wouldn’t want that injury to get any worse.”

Jaime tried to hold her back, but Brienne was already sitting up, hovering over his frame, one hand rubbing the growing bulge in his pants.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you,” she said as she slowly unlaced his breeches, freeing his erection.

Fingers firmly around Jaime’s cock, Brienne bent down to take him into her mouth. 

He reached for her face, brushed her cheek with a finger. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” she said, lips wet and red, as she closed her mouth around him.

“Gods, Brienne...” Jaime dropped his hand to the side of his body and exhaled loudly. 

If Brienne could make him long for the sweetness of her mouth with just a kiss, what she was doing to him now made him forget he’d ever known another woman. Holding the base of his cock in place with her thumb and index finger, Brienne took all of him into her mouth, sucking and licking every inch of his hardness. 

“Like this?” She asked, stretching the length of his cock; gliding up and down and up and down.

“Yes,” said Jaime, though it was more moan than word. Laying back against the covers, he watched as she sat on her knees, strands of her blonde hair falling into her face. She seemed unusually feminine, the act surprisingly tender. 

Brienne’s hands and mouth worked together, alternating between gentle squeezes and firmer movements, and with each minute that passed, Jaime’s senses grew sharper, his mind cloudier. 

“Tell me when,” she said as she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock while her hands moved from base to top.

Jaime’s eyelids began to flutter and he knew from the tightening in his body that the moment wasn’t far away.

“Breee-” he faltered, and Brienne took her mouth of him.

He leaned forward to take himself in his hand, but her fingers were still wrapped around his cock, pressing in all the right places. It was all just too much. “Now!” he blurted out as he spilled on her neck and chest.

When he looked up at Brienne a moment later, he found her smiling. 

“I’d say something witty, but I’m all spent.”

“Oh I know,” she said, sitting down next to him on the left side of the bed, pointing to her neck and shirt covered in his stickiness, her lips still curved upward in a smile. 

“Sorry about that. Here, let me,” he said, and moved to untie the laces of her shirt, wiping her skin with the sleeve of his shirt. 

Brienne settled back against the pillows and looked out to the wide windows opening to the courtyard, leaving him to wrestle with her clothing on his own. 

“You were right. The sky’s all I see from here,” she said looking past him at the white clouds scattered in a sea of blue.

“Not a bad view, huh?”

“One could get used to it.”

“You should take it, the left side of the bed.”

“I thought we already picked sides?”

“Humor me. Try it out. I’ll trade you back if you don’t like it,” he said and leaned in for a kiss.

“But then you won’t be able to see it!”

“Watch,” he said. “If you lay on your side like this, and I hold you in my arms like that...” He placed his right arm over her waist, and fitted his body snuggly against hers. “Then we can both see the sky, and you’re just a quick roll away from the door if someone walks in.”

“I like that,” she said, and settled against his body. Jaime kissed the nape of her neck and looked out at the sky, happy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, special thanks to observeroftheuniverse for her beta work and to talitakuomi for the gorgeous cover art. You ladies rock! Thanks also to all who have commented and sent kudos, your encouragement means everything. Hopefully it won't take me so long to post the next chapter.


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